


I Shall Name It...

by mitspeiler



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, doorstep babies, fanoffspring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:05:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitspeiler/pseuds/mitspeiler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John finds a thing in a sack on his front door one morning.  A thing that cries, eats gushers, has orange blood, and shares his DNA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Shall Name It...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lordlyhour](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lordlyhour/gifts).



            John was looking at the hideous orange-blooded abomination in his hands.  It had his eyes and lack of horns, and its apparent mother’s lack of coherent thought and sanity hiding somewhere behind the eyes.  John was unable to tell is gender, of course, as it was a goddamn troll wiggler that had somehow been hybridized with his DNA.  He’d found it moments ago in a sack on the doorstep with a note.

            It was written on a standard notecard in a very dense, cramped hand, and he groaned at the realization that trolls used their typing quirks in their handwriting as well.  “Sweet merciful Jegus,” he said, more irritated than anything, trying to read it by the soft blue light of the extremely early morning and deciding that he would need to decode this shit like some WWII-era English math teacher, if that were a thing that had happened in this reality.  He picked up the adorably hideous worm-baby, which made soft cooing noises and wrapped around his forearm, falling asleep near instantly.

            John’s son walked into the living room, rubbing the sleep out of his lilac eyes.  “What’s that, da—?”

            “Go back to sleep Nic,” John snapped.  “It’s way too early for little boys to be up!  The last time I woke up this early, the universe _ended_.”  Nic rolled his eyes and with a muttered ‘whatever,’ teleported out of the room in a flash of pink light.  The fact that his son was a magician marked by the dark gods of the outer rim was something that John often bragged about at barbecues.  The best Jenkins’s son next door could do was get into a fancy private school, act as waspy a wasp as ever did wasp at the tender age of ten, and secretly be the pool boy’s son.  Nic was easily twice as cool as that.

            John floated into his office and began the arduous process of deciphering the code, which to make matters worse was written in a super-bright yellow ink that he couldn’t look directly at.  The wiggler woke up halfway through and started murmuring loudly, so John fed it some Fruit Gushers he had in his desk drawer.  He had no fear of Betty Crocker products of course.  As Lord and Creator, it was quite easy to hand ownership of the product to some company he didn’t hate.

            Well, the hideous scrawl was eventually deciphered.  It read:

 

Hello lover! ^;)

            It’s been ages since that amazing night in Monte Carlo!  And also in Rio de Janeiro, London, that tiny village on the coast of Mexico, all five of the significant moons, and the Empress’s throne room.  Teleporting during copulation was certainly inventive of you!  Now, it just so happened that afterwards when you told me to flush the bucket, and I said I did, I didn’t!  How funny right?  ^:P

            I gave it to the Imperial Drone that lived on the corner.  Remember him?  He got into MIT since then.  So smart!  Anyways, our gloop went into the mother grub’s disgusting incestuous slurry, and I didn’t worry about because I’m going to live to be like, forty, and Oh God I’m going to die young John help me help meeeeeeeeeeee I don’t want to die and I can feel it creeping up on me already the grinning green specter trying to get his claws into my tender beautiful flessssssssssssh and okay, I feel better now.  But I guess I forgot to figure in that you humans reproduce like _fucking rabbits_ so disgustiiiiiiiiiiiiing sorry!  I’m not racist, I just get sad sometimes you know?  And angry too.  Simultaneously.  ^:’(

            So my roommate is a Jadeblood and her job is to go down into the caves and search for wigglers to give them over to their Lusii and last week she found this adorable little sin against God and nature, recognized it as being mine, and brought it home because all the Lusii she showed it to tried to eat it.  It is pretty cute, just like daddy _mmmmmmmmmmmm_ ^;P but I’m getting sidetracked.  You know us trolls don’t do the whole raising young thing, but fortunately you guys do right?

            Also his blood is _orange_.  What the fuuuuuuuuuuuck?  Usually it’s one blood color or the other, but I guess male human DNA parasitizes the female and combines their material together into a new one?  You guys are fucking weiiiiiiiiiiiird!

 

—Your sexy yellowblooded friend who will always love you more than that stupid ugly blonde whore you human married,

~Alppis Corhai

 

            John slapped his forehead repeatedly.  Why had he ever gone drinking with that crazy bitch?  There was something taped on the back.  It was a picture.  John reddened, then destroyed it discretely and with extreme prejudice.  The wiggler-baby thing mewled at him.  He stared into its huge blue eyes.  If trolls were any indication, they would eventually grow into humanoid proportions, unless something in the human DNA blocked the troll DNA and kept it from developing properly, which was highly likey, now he thought about it.  This kid-thing would probably have a whole mess of problems, being the first recorded child of a god and an alien.  Jesus Christ, it was going to grow up to be the villain of _The Dunwich Horror_!

            The baby-wiggler-thing mewled again and sucked on John’s fingertip.  It didn’t have teeth at birth like trolls do, fortunately.  John sighed.  Fine, he would keep it.  It was his responsibility after all.  He decided to name it Casey, which was pretty androgenous, just like this thing would probably grow up to be.  Now how to explain it to Rose?

            “John?” she said from the doorway, and his blood ran cold.  “Nic says that people are leaving your bastards on the doorstep.”

            Nic’s reading too many grown-up books,” John accused.  “He should read my Colonel Sassacre book instead!”

            Rose gave him a wry smile.  “That two hundred year old museum-piece full of such elevated humor that even you can’t understand it?  Perfect for children.  And you can’t distract me so easily.  What are we going to do about your little embarrassment here?”  John groaned.  He could tell this was going to be a long day, and the sun hadn’t even risen yet.  Bluh.

**Author's Note:**

> Actually, for once, I’ll let you figure it all out.


End file.
